Petty Cash


He was a tax collector,
The very best of the best,
For he collected taxes
Overlooked by all the rest.

So, just why should he report
All the tax he collected?
The coins he kept for himself
Would never be detected.

One night a thief found the coins,
A right goodly pile of loot,
In the back of a closet,
In the tax collector’s boot.

He didn’t mean to kill him,
At least not to kill him then,
Because he planned to come back
And to rob him once again.

Now the thief was of the kind
Who would always like to brag.
He talked about the silver
That he carried in his bag.

Well it didn’t take too long
For the thief to meet his fate.
He realized his mistake
Just a little bit too late.

If you cheat when you gamble,
One thing you should never do,
Is to gamble with people
That are much meaner than you.

Now the coin sack’s new owner
Knew naught of its history.
But to all of those who knew,
His death was no mystery.

Not a one of them would touch
The gamblers ill-gotten gain,
They just left him by the road,
On his back, out in the rain.

A passing priest who saw him
Was disgusted at the sight.
And the priest thought to himself,
That fate had served this man right.

Then a traveler called out,
“This poor fellow needs a priest.
Can’t you see that he’s dying?
Won’t you comfort him at least?”

Just then, the priest saw the coins,
Enough to pay for his plan.
So, of course, the priest would help
This poor, wretched, dying, man!

Then he quickly slid the coins
Down inside his garment’s hem.
And then, with practiced fingers,
He skillfully counted them.

There were thirty little coins
Of silver, so very bright.
They would pay for the evil
He had planned that very night.

He hurried to the temple
To tell all his friends the news.
How God had just provided
Thirty coins that they could use.

“I hope that there is plenty,
He’s the greedy kind I fear.
That’s him over by the door.
Hey Judas, come over here.”


Did you ever wonder where the money paid to Judas to betray Jesus came from? Was it some tithes-payer’s money, who had given his tenth to the temple to be used for God’s work? Maybe it was made up of a bunch of widows’ mites.

I would rather think that it was tainted money from the beginning. Petty Cash is a poem that tells my version of where the ‘thirty pieces of silver’ might have originated.

Matthew 26:15

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